


A Hop, A Skip

by TwilightVelvet



Category: Ever After High, Monster High
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Masturbation, POV Second Person, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 08:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightVelvet/pseuds/TwilightVelvet
Summary: You can't get over Bunny Blanc. There was never even anything between you two. She barely even liked you. So why is it so hard to move on?





	A Hop, A Skip

Bunny Blanc was such a good girl. You still wonder what changed that. In all likeliness, you’re the one who changed, almost certainly for the worst.

When you both met, it was in Ever After. An easy place to get to from Wonderland or New Salem, at least relatively so. Close enough that you almost never managed to be late. You didn’t want to upset Bunny, even though she’s never been easily stressed out. She’s quite calm, even considering that she must see much stranger things in Wonderland every day. Bunny, however, was quite curious about your life in the monster world.

How hopelessly eager you were to have her listen. In contrast to the talking desks and changing classes—she’d literally walk into a room to find it different from a minute ago—the most wild thing you’d seen was most likely Frankie’s talents at detaching her hands or limbs and making them walk on their own. Cool, sure, but not wondrous. Everything you said interested Bunny, though. A girl like her really was made for a world with a tighter grasp on conventional reality. Oh, well. It’s normal for White Rabbits to feel a bit out of place in their own world. You, on the other hand…

Where should you begin? Where could you? You’re just a strange little beast, neither freak nor fairy. It’s hard to fit in with humans. It’s hard not to. Sometimes you have to sacrifice some happiness for self-preservation. Maybe you took it too far. Maybe that’s why you’re in this mess. You can’t exactly help it, though—who wants to get taunted by her own neighborhood day-in and day-out instead of making some minor adjustments? Like clipping your hair and fur as short as it will go, and maybe farther. Or perhaps never daring to wear a dress too far from Ever After.Or, best of all: hanging out with gargoyle and ogre boys that knew you were absolutely inferior but smart enough not to say it.

What a joke. You’re no more substantial than the dust and hair you’re made of. No wonder it didn’t take Bunny too much effort to blow you and your facade away. Dazzled by the slightest bit of integrity you saw in a simple friend, your empty head interpreted it as some grand romance. And so you opened up to her far, far more than what was safe.

You came to her one summer day, crying in a sundress, and she listened. Even more, she told you how great you were, especially compared to people so cruel as to deny you your identity, and you thanked her. You came to her one winter day with rainbow braids and a broken soul and told her about every single invisible scar that life had left on your hide. And she listened, and comforted you so sweetly, and you thanked her. But then you came to her one spring, and you laughed and danced under a cool sun, and you kissed her on the forehead. And she stumbled back and looked into your eyes with an unfamiliar confusion.

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Good girls don’t date freaks. She’s a saint to even have you as a friend. She’s an absolute paragon of grace by taking on such a lost cause. And you remember how what she said so clearly, and you know she could have made her words cut deeper. But she’s not like that. She’s your friend.

“Hoppy…you know how much I care for you. I just don’t feel this way about you. I don’t think I feel this way about girls at all. It’s not you. I want nothing more than to make you that happy. But I have to be true to myself.”

What a good girl.

So what about Bunny? You can do better, you can do so much better. What’s so good about her, anyways? If you tried you would have tons and tons of friends! Bunny only has the few. Her life will be so much neater without you. It’s really for the better when you two (more like just you) break the friendship off.

Good girls give good advice. “Be yourself” is what she said, right? So you became blindingly and distractingly yourself. You bleached and crimped your hair, then dyed just half of it in streaks. You were ready to take on the world, completely unencumbered by anyone else, like ogres or gargoyles or bunnies. But your spark burnt out just as quick. You’d swear the zombies have more energy than you. And where your short-lived self-care had once been placed, visions of Bunny had replaced them in feverish intensity.

You ignored it at first. In fact, some monsters had even gotten you a little something to keep up your wild energy for raves and whatever else. But you weren’t focused on yourself, or even Bunny alone. The two stuck together in your mind like a pair of dryer sheets. Your identity, or rather, lack of it, blurred into hers. Who are you, really?

Whatever. You’re not going to let her bother you. So when your thoughts drift to what could have been, you attend to them. Direct action—something unfortunately new for you.

One tired day, you enter your room and gently close the door before scooting under the bed (not on top, it’s a family thing) to relax. To just…unwind. It’s too hot under there for you (fur gets warm!), so you kick off what thin garments you’re wearing. And you struggle against your mind for a while, but you didn’t come here to keep denying what you want. You gnaw off two of your claws with your teeth and let your hand wander to your damp labia and your mind wander to images of Bunny. It’s easier in the dark.

She’s thin, pale, and blushing. She lays back and spreads her legs just for you, and you gently attend to her with your tongue and the pads of her fingers. And she thanks you. Bunny apologizes for how long you two haven’t talked, and you try to stop her and explain no it really isn’t her fault and she does—_shh_. She says its okay. No words to ruin this. None of my big dumb mouth, you think. Just caring. And when she finishes, she purrs and squeals for you, and assures you of what a great job you did.

The image of Bunny rubbing and occasionally licking you wasn’t so concrete, but it was nonetheless satisfying and beautiful. You just felt so happy, like you could never come down. But you did. It wasn’t anything too awful, but you could do without the little pang of loneliness. At least Bunny stayed off your mind for a while. Hopefully you’re closer to okay.

Your mom asked about your nails on the way to school the next day. You said you fell.

Boy, you sure did.

**Author's Note:**

> Main character is a trans MH/EAH hybrid OC. Mom is a monster under the bed (furry, glowing eyes), Dad is a dust bunny (like EAH's White Rabbit, but... dust), and Hoppy's a mixture of both. Her name's not final.


End file.
